Forging Feelings
by Strange.x.And.x.Beautiful
Summary: "He tries to tell himself it's no skin off his nose what they get up to, but every day he wakes up to find it really does bother him." Eames can't let Ariadne go after the Inception job, but it seems neither can she. ADDED MISSING SCENES
1. Forging Feelings

Forging Feelings

**The characters don't belong to me, Christopher Nolan owns them.**

**Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/favourited 'Stealing Glances' you made my week :) **

**This was intended to be an EamesxAriadne fic but the ArthurxAriadne is still prominent, I can't help but love the pairing. So really its a bit of both, although more EamesxAriadne sided.**

**Well, enjoy!**

Summary: "He tries to tell himself it's no skin off his nose what they get up to, but every day he wakes up to find it really does bother him." Eames can't let Ariadne go after the Inception job, but it seems neither can she.

He's had enough of it, it's the end of the day and Eames just wants to go under. He wants escape the bad day he's been having and it's their entire fault. It is most days he's in a bad mood.

It's been going on for months now, Arthur and Ariadne's _thing_. Their relationship, fuck buddy agreement, whatever you want to call it. He tries to tell himself it's no skin off his nose what they get up to, but every day he wakes up to find it really does bother him. How did Mr Boring win over the beautiful and creative Ariadne? He can't fathom it, and doesn't really want to try and work it out either; it'll only make his mood even worse.

When they'd first met Eames didn't take a whole lot of notice of her, she was practically a schoolgirl, and he liked his women with a bit more experience, politely speaking. But as he got to know her a little bit more he found there was more to the schoolgirl than met the eye. As they worked together on the models for Fischer's dreams he found out more about her and he became interested. Usually he didn't bother getting to know a woman, it was unlikely he'd see them again the next day, but it was different with her. He and Ariadne had to work together, closely too, and it was inevitable he should take an interest in her, or was it?

Ariadne had lived in the U.S. but visited her grandparents in Paris during the holidays while growing up; they were the ones who'd suggested the architecture course at the university to her. Miles, the professor, was a very old friend and the best teacher they could think of to get the best out of Ariadne's abilities. It seems the old people were right, so Cobb tells him, Ariadne's architecture is amazing.

Her grandparents had brought her a studio flat close to the university, which she was always grateful for, once the Inception job is over she'll send some money back to them, she'd confided in him, it was the least she could do for all the help they'd given her over the last two years. She had reminisced about that flat of hers a lot; describing it as small, but it had spectacular views of the city. It had been her favourite place to be, until she'd been seduced by the dream world. Eames remembers the fondness in her voice when she talks about her past; it makes him a little jealous, he's never been attached to anything or anyone in such a way he'd want to reminisce about it, he's curious what it'd feel like.

Just like that the Fischer job was over. Cobb had finally gone home to play daddy, Yusuf had gone back to playing with chemicals in Mombasa, and then there were the three of them. Eames tagged along with Ariadne and Arthur because he didn't want to leave her just yet. He cared for the girl, a lot more than he liked to admit, but it also gave him pleasure to know that it irritated Arthur immensely, that was the fun side of it.

A month later they'd declared themselves together, it came as no surprise to him as Ariadne had already indicated her feelings for the Point Man two weeks before the big announcement. But even before then Eames had caught the secret smiles, the lingering touches, and on more than one occasion heard the evidence that they were more than 'just friends'. Although part of him disapproved thoroughly that Arthur was nowhere near good enough for her, the other side reasoned she could do worse, she could've got caught up with a guy like him.

The next two months it'd all gone down hill. The more they fell in love, the moodier Eames became. Alcohol was the only thing that perked him up apart from alone time with Ariadne. Liquor got him to focus on other women; he was picking up a new brunette every night, which was ironic, because he used to prefer blondes. Some nights he returned to the apartment and passed out wherever was convenient at the time. Other nights he didn't return till early morning. He'd try to sneak in but Ariadne would be up waiting for him, she'd pull the face and lecture him about the danger he could've been in. He'd smile and apologise, sometimes even squeeze her hand, but he'd always assure her that he was a big boy and could look after himself. Arthur usually put in his two cents in but Eames couldn't care less, Ariadne was all her cared about.

Today had been the worst day ever, she'd run up to him eyes bright with excitement and announced they were engaged. She and the Point Man were to get married in the summer, in August, six months away. It was Valentine's Day, Arthur had proposed on the sappiest day of the year in Eames opinion, you couldn't get any more cliché, but all that really mattered was she'd accepted Arthur's proposal. He didn't have long left with her now, after the honeymoon they'd either want to move out or he'd have to. He had to be the better man and move without asking, he couldn't invade forever.

Three months to go to the big day and she comes to him crying. He moved out of the apartment a couple of weeks ago to give her and Arthur space, but he misses her so much it hurts. She turns up at his flat which is half hour away and says it's moving too fast. Arthur's talking about kids and settling down, retiring from extraction and moving back stateside. Ariadne explains she's barely lived this life, she can't give it up yet, she wants to travel and explore further for at least another five years, ten if she pushes it. Eames holds her close, strokes her hair and listens as she gets it all off of her chest, he's never really been this physically close to her and he finds its so much better than when he's dreamt it on the very rare occasion. Her hair smells like apricots, his favourite fruit, and even though her eyes are red and her cheeks are tearstained he still thinks she's beautiful. After a while she calms down a little, the tears have stopped and she curls next to him on the sofa with her head on his shoulder while she sleeps. He couldn't be happier even if he were dreaming.

She's been here a week and Eames isn't entirely sure why. She could've stayed with her grandparents but instead she chose to stay with him, not that he minds. When she'd woken up from the crying incident she'd called Arthur and told him she needs some space to think, she still loves him and wants to marry him but she needs some separation for now. They've been together six months and its all going too fast for her to process; she'll come back to him when she's ready. Eames is secretly happy about this turn of events; he thinks that she must've missed him as much as he's missed her. He won't ask, just in case he's wrong, he doesn't want to ruin what they have. They've had a good time together while she's been there, they've been out a few times to her favourite restaurant, he treated her to the cinema, and one evening she'd even cooked. Every day it's becoming harder not to kiss her, whenever she smiles at him she lights up and he wants nothing more than to lean in and press a soft kiss to her lips, but what holds him back is Arthur. She loves Arthur, she said so herself. This period of separation is because she's supposed to be sorting her head out; it doesn't mean she's officially called the relationship off, much to Eames dismay. But for now he's ecstatic that she's here, he never wants her to leave, but he knows it can't last forever.

It's the second week when something happens between them. He takes her out to a bar and they end up consuming a bottle of wine each. Eames knows how to handle it but Ariadne really doesn't. He teases her that she's drunk and she slurs she isn't in return. It makes him laugh as he has to put and arm around her waist to hold her steady as they walk back in the moonlight. They have to stop once or twice because she thinks she's going to be sick but thankfully her stomach holds out. They get through the door and she flops onto the sofa giggling for no apparent reason, Eames is a bit wobbly himself and sits on the floor in front of her laughing too because he's never seen her in this state before. Her laughter dies down and he thinks she must've passed out. He turns to check if she's sleeping and is surprised to find she's watching him in silence. Her chocolate brown eyes are a shade darker than normal as she stares at him intently, her hand stretches out to stroke his cheek and he's not sure whether to stop this or not, she's drunk and clearly doesn't know what she's doing, but on the other hand he's been waiting for this moment since he'd met her. But he's drunk as well; his inhibitions are down too, although he doesn't have much to begin with, if he was sober he'd be stronger he'd walk away and leave Ariadne be, but he can't, he fears he'll never have this moment again, knows it really. He leans his cheek into her hand and smells the tang of her breath as her face is closer than it ever has been. His will has now been broken as he presses his lips against hers and its heaven, they both let out a moan, and he knows she's been waiting for this too, even if she'll never admit it. He stands up, not breaking their kiss and leans slowly on top of her on the sofa as her hands slide up his back and rest on his shoulders; they make their way into his hair as she pulls him even closer. He can feel the heat between them and he has to touch her skin, his hand moves down her side and stops at the hem of her shirt, almost as if he's waiting for permission. She breaks away from him just to nod her head before she starts placing kisses on his neck which sends shivers down his spine. Eames doesn't need telling twice as his hand slides under the material and rests his palm on her ribcage, Ariadne takes a sharp intake of breath and he chuckles. She smiles sweetly as she sits up so they're now eye to eye and moves away from him to stand, then holds out a hand. Her hair is dishevelled, her lips are swollen and she's oozing sexiness. His jeans are starting to feel uncomfortable and he knows what's coming if he takes her hand. Eames wants it so bad but he knows it'll change their relationship for good, but she asks him if he's coming and he can't say no. He picks her up, throws her over his shoulder and she giggles loudly as he makes his way to the bedroom. Will she regret it in the morning? He doesn't know, but he's got to make it special so he'll never forget, not that he ever will.

She wakes up the next morning with a headache. Ariadne's in Eames' bed but she's not alone. She becomes aware she's naked and pulls the covers closer to her body, guilt coursing through her whole body. Deep, deep down she'd wanted last night to happen, but that was before she and Arthur were together. She loves Eames, but it's not even a tenth of the love she has for Arthur. She knows for certain now she wants to be with Arthur, she's ready for the future he's got planned for them. She realises it's more of an adventure than she's ever thought of, if family life was good enough for Cobb, it'd be good enough for them. Eames wakes up beside her and it's clear in his cerulean blue eyes that he's sorry for last night. She explains its time she should go and he nods replying it's for the best. He says loved every minute she's been here and he hopes she'll be happy with Arthur. He's making it sound like goodbye but she reassures him that it'll still be the same between them. He knows it won't be.

He gets an invitation in the post a month later, the wedding is back on, and they're having it in New York. He guesses they'll be moving back to the US soon, although the envelope shows they're still in Paris for now. There's no way she'll come back to him now, he hasn't helped matters by ignoring her calls, but what can he say? There is nothing to say, what happened, happened. He doesn't want to talk it over, he knows she was frightened of the 'foreverness' of her and Arthur's relationship and that night was a wakeup call, he doesn't need her to explain it, it'll just hurt more than it does now. He's stopped with the one night stands. The sex is just empty, it's not harmless fun anymore, he feels like it should mean something but it doesn't, it means nothing. He knows he's got to move away from Paris, the flat is a constant reminder of her, he walks down the street past the cinema and he's reminded of her, he picks up his favourite jacket and it still smells like Ariadne the night she was cold and he offered it to her. He needs a fresh start, he's tempted to go home back to the U.K but he fears it isn't far enough, but nowhere will ever be.

It's a fortnight before the wedding and he's staying with Cobb and the kids. Eames has been moving around a lot since he left Paris. He's worked in Tokyo, Sydney, London, Johannesburg, and Buenos Aeries to name a few places. He's gone back to being a thief for his day job, he knows if he goes back to extraction jobs he'll be bringing in Ariadne like Cobb brought Mal in, he can't put himself through that, he'll be back to square one. The reason he's here is because he got a call from Arthur. Arthur explained that Ariadne had been worried about him, she hadn't seen him in months and they still hadn't had an RSVP for the wedding. Arthur had sounded strained when he told Eames that Ariadne would be heartbroken if he didn't show up, he's still her best friend despite the fact that they haven't seen each other in a while, if he couldn't be there for Arthur the least he could do was be there for Ariadne. Eames had crumbled and agreed he'd be there, Ariadne deserved better he joked, and he swore he could hear a smile in Arthur's voice; Arthur thanked him and hung up.

Eames watches Ariadne glide down the aisle toward Arthur; she looks absolutely stunning in the simple white dress. Her smile is the brightest he's ever seen and he's ready to let go, she's happiest with Arthur there's nothing he could do to change that. Eames catches her eye as she passes his pew and her eyes begin to shine with tears, he knows he made the right decision to come; he's made her day perfect. Cobb squeezes his shoulder and he realises his feelings for Ariadne couldn't have been as secret as he thought.

It's later in the night and they're at the reception. Eames is at the bar watching Ariadne on the dance floor laughing as her father dances with her. Yusuf stands next to him and asks if he's ok. Eames looks over the rim of his beer and gives a quick nod and Yusuf understands. He'll be ok so long as she is. Ariadne catches Eames eye and she makes her way to the bar, she asks him to dance and he can't say no. She leads him to the dance floor and I Still Care for You by Ray Lamontagne starts up. He places his left hand on her waist as her right hand is on his shoulder; they hold hands the dancer's way and sway on the spot. She comments that he scrubs up well in a suit and he retorts she doesn't look so bad herself. She laughs and they remain in silence as he twirls her and brings her back to his body. Ariadne bites her lip and then looks up at him not sure whether she should bring _that night_ up or not. He second guesses her and tells her what's in the past stays in the past, it's not an issue for him anymore, she smiles gratefully and then apologises. She loves him, but she loves Arthur more she explains. She goes on to say that night wasn't a mistake but it made her realise what she really wanted out of life, he stops her there, he doesn't want to hear anymore but he's glad it wasn't a mistake. They fall into silence again and Ariadne tells him she's missed him, when she's back from the honeymoon she wants to see more of him. Eames says he'll try but he can't promise anything, he's so in demand he barely has time for social calls. She knows he really means he's still in love with her and it's just too hard for the time being, but what they have is special she knows he'll come back into her life when he's ready. The song ends too soon and he steps away from her, although he's still holding her hand, he kisses it, then her cheek and makes his way into the shadows. Once the day is over Ariadne isn't sure if he left then or if he'd just stayed inconspicuous for the rest of the night, but that was the last time she saw him on her wedding day.

He appears a year and a half later to celebrate her baby boy's birthday. Ariadne's been thinking about him every day since he disappeared. She still loves Arthur more but a little piece of her heart will belong to the Forger. She spies Eames out of the kitchen window leaning against the wall talking with Cobb like nothing has changed; she smiles when she spots Arthur playing with Thomas. He looks just like his dad, although he's got the same colour hair as her, not that he has a lot of it. She brings the cake out and they all sing happy birthday. As she leans over and blows the candle out for her son, she catches Eames eye and she smiles, she can't help it, and he smiles back which is a good sign. She hopes he's moved on now, so they can be friends again, she knows she'll have to wait and see.

Eames still loves her, but he's ready to be friends again. He looks at her life here and she's happy, she's made the right choice. He could never have given her this, he wasn't the type. When she smiles at him over the birthday cake he knows she's glad he's back and that's what makes it worthwhile.

Because he'll be anything for her, he can't stay away any more.

**Reviews = love**


	2. Missing Scene: Ariadne's Background

Missing Scene: Ariadne's Background

**There are some bits of 'Forging Feelings' which i felt needed expanding on because i didn't use dialogue. So i've decided on writing a few missing scenes to fully explain how Eames came to love Ariadne in this fic. There will probably be three scenes in total and this is the first of the little seeds that blossom into EamesxAriadne.**

**So as always, enjoy!**

Ariadne and Eames were working late one evening, they were more or less alone and he thought now was an opportune time to strike up some small talk since he'd never done so before. He had slowly started becoming interested with this pretty distraction that sat no more than two metres away from him, there was more to her than the usual woman. She was opinionated, he liked that in a woman, and she was becoming the moral compass for Cobb, it seemed he liked that too. He wondered what else she had to offer.

Cobb had taken Arthur out to do something be known to them and Yusuf was busy looking up chemical compounds on the internet. He had his earphones plugged in and they could hear snippets of the bhangra music he was listening to on iTunes.

"Have you always lived in Paris?" Eames asked lazily as if they were already in the middle of a conversation. He didn't take his eyes away from his notes about Browning.

"No, I haven't." Ariadne replied as she looked up from her model. Her eyes locked onto Eames' figure in the chair and she wondered if he would look back at her.

They hadn't spoken much since she'd joined the team, she'd watched him taunt Arthur and she'd spied on him talking to Cobb but he'd barely said a thing to her apart from the pleasantries. She didn't think he really cared about her much at all, but now he was showing an interest and she didn't know why. It wasn't like she'd changed anything in her character, or the amount of time spent around him but all of a sudden she mattered to him now, this new found interest intrigued her.

"Where did you live before here?" Eames had looked up from his notes and put the pen down to show her she had his undivided attention. He grinned internally when he surveyed her, she looked pretty when she was trying to figure him out, and he'd seen that look a couple times before. Eames had caught her stares when he ridiculed Arthur and when he was chatting with Cobb; it was almost jealousy in her eyes, she wanted to know why he kept his distance from her, what was so good about these men that set them apart from her?

"I lived in Canada with my parents for most of my life, but I came to visit my grandparents here every summer."

"But you liked it here so much that you ended up staying and got into university here?"

"Something like that."

"You don't give much away do you, Ariadne."

"You haven't given me much reason to divulge my past, Eames."

"Touché. Well I'm interested now, will you divulge?"

"Only if you tell me something about you, something that no one knows."

"Oh, not until _at least_ the sixth date, darling."

"This isn't a date." She stated as she pushed some of her hair behind her ear.

"All the more reason not to tell you."

"Does anybody know anything about you?"

"Not really, no. It comes in handy when I have to disappear for a period of time."

Ariadne considered this for a while, Eames wasn't being stubborn he was doing this out of his own self preservation, but she still wanted to know something about him, anything even, so he was a little less of a mystery to her.

"Tell me something trivial then."

"I'm an Arsenal supporter." He told her without hesitating.

Eames was reminded of home, not that he thought of it often. He remembered when he was a child and he used to sneak into Highbury stadium on a Saturday afternoon to watch his heroes play football. He couldn't remember a match he'd seen for the full ninety minutes, he always got caught by the stewards who'd haul him out by the ear just before full time. It was always worth the risk though.

"Is that true?" she asked, without an inkling that he was reminiscing.

"Could be, but you never know with me." Eames smirked as he saw she was none the wiser.

"Ok. Well, I moved here when I was nineteen. I stayed in my grandparent's château which is located just outside of Paris. They were happy to have their only granddaughter living with them since they only saw me in the holidays; we became pretty close while I lived there. I was already fluent in French so I had no trouble fitting in; Paris has become like a second home to me. I spent about a year working at a greengrocer's to get my money together to apply for university, my grandparents helped with money where they could. They knew Miles, my tutor, from years back, and they called in a favour from him. They'd looked at my drawings and suggested I study Architecture, they assured me Miles was an excellent teacher and he would guide me in everything I needed to know, so I agreed and applied as soon as I got enough money together."

Ariadne looked up from her hands at Eames to see if he was listening because she felt like she was droning on, but he was leaning forward in a rapt silence actually looking interested in what she had to say, so she continued.

"My grandparents brought me a small flat close to the university, I've been living there for two years now and I love that place. It's only a studio but the view from my window is amazing, you wouldn't believe how many nights I've sat there sketching the view. Sometimes I'd add my own buildings just to change the scenery, but I could never better what's already there."

"You know you can make that real, those drawings of yours." Eames said, looking at her in such a way she had to look away from him.

"Cobb said I should never recreate from reality." She replied like a child reciting rules created by their parents.

"It wouldn't be part of the job; it'd be something fun, recreational. It'd give you a break from all of this." He gestured to her cardboard models on the work top.

"You know once this is finished I'm going to pay them back." Ariadne blurted out to change the subject; she wasn't ready to test out her architecture on him. Ariadne felt she could show her dream architecture to Cobb because he could let her know where she was going wrong, what needed changing to make her a better architect; with Arthur he was a teacher, he taught her how to bend the rules, he guided her through it. But Eames was different, he had to be a perfectionist in his line of work, he was an artist in a way, and she just couldn't summon the courage just yet to show him, just in case he was disappointed in her skill.

"I'm going to give them half my share, it's the least I could do for them. They deserve it for all the help and guidance they've given me."

"That's generous of you; you must love them a lot."

"I do, very much. Do you have any family?"

"You know, I'm feeling pretty tired, I'm going to call it a night." Eames announced abruptly as he avoided her question. He didn't want to get into his past; it wasn't something he liked to share with anyone. He then got up from the deck chair and walked past Ariadne's "Good talk." He smiled as he patted the back of her chair.

"Yeah." She replied, confused. "Good talk."

It was about a week before he spoke to her again; Cobb thought it might be a good idea to put Eames with Ariadne so he could suggest some shortcuts, should anything go wrong. He was hesitant about the idea at first, but one look at those chocolate brown eyes and he found he couldn't argue.

Once again he sat in front of her work desk, looking busy with his notes.

"Cobb's asked me to suggest some shortcuts." He announced, just as unexpected as before, not looking up from the paper.

"Not before you tell me something trivial." Ariadne replied, not looking up from her sketches. If he could play it cool like this, so would she.

"My favourite fruit is apricots."

"Is that true?"

"You tell me." He smirked; he was starting to enjoy this game.

Over the next few weeks they started their conversations like this, with a trivial titbit about Eames past which he neither confirmed nor denied was the truth. It was light and fun and he never gave much away which meant he kept his ambiguity. However, his shroud of mystery was unfurling as he slowly let her in, even if she didn't know it.

Eames was starting to feel protective of her, which was very out of character for him. He could only hope once the job was over they could go their separate ways and that would be the end of it all.

It didn't go that way, at all.

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	3. Missing Scene: Picking Up Women

Missing Scene: Picking Up Women

**Seed number 2 for you. Enjoy!**

Eames had come home and found Arthur and Ariadne curled up on the sofa watching some French film; the subtitles were on because Arthur only knew the basics, but Ariadne had no trouble understanding what they were saying, she spoke the language fluently. He'd taken one look at them before stomping off to his room to go and get changed; he then decided to go on the pull because there was only so much lovey-doveyness in the next room that he could handle. Moping in is room was far too suspicious, they would've suspect something was wrong in no time.

This kind of behaviour had become common over the last month or so. Eames would come home after working late and they'd be in some kind of relationship scenario, he found it would irritate him for no apparent reason. Then he would go straight out again to pick up the most gorgeous Parisian woman he could find and spend the night with her, just because he could. It had started with just weekends to begin with; it was common for young single men to be out on a Saturday night, he was just doing exactly what he ought to. But slowly it'd started becoming weekdays too. Just one weekday at first, then it turned into two; it stood at that point in time, at three weekdays plus the weekend. Eames was pretty sure after all these outings his liver was pickled, or at least on its way, but he didn't really care.

Once dried off from his shower, Eames had changed into a crisp plain white shirt. He left the collar and the second button undone to expose a small amount of flesh because he knew it drove women to distraction. He added some black trousers to his ensemble and finished it off with a pair of black Yves Saint Laurent dress shoes. He took a quick look in the mirror and had to admit, he did look good, pure bloody girl bait - just what he was aiming for. He spritzed some cologne to his neck, chest and wrists, and then added a lucky squirt to just inside his trousers; he had to smell good, where ever on his body. Eames then took a swig of some Jack that he had hiding in his bedside drawer and felt ready for the night ahead; he'd decided he might even do some gambling if he had the chance.

He'd left his room all psyched up and then bumped into Ariadne who had been on her way to the bathroom.

"Hey." She smiled; her eyes appraised his appearance quickly and before maintaining eye contact. Right then Eames had started to feel guilty.

"Hi." Was all he could manage in return.

"Going out?" Ariadne sounded mildly interested but she never pried into his affairs. That wasn't her style.

"I'm just meeting some friends down the pub for a drink, nothing exciting." Eames lied. It would've sounded a lot more pathetic if he'd admitted the truth – he was avoiding them.

"Say hi to them for me." She continued her way towards the bathroom before stopping just once more. "Maybe you should invite your friends round sometime; they keep taking you away from me. I might start to get jealous." She gave out a small laugh before disappearing behind the door and suddenly Eames' stomach was full of a mixture of butterflies and lead, he didn't want to go out but he had to. He'd forget about her after the fifth or sixth drink, he had thought to himself, although he didn't really want to he argued. But he needed to; this infatuation was driving him round the bend.

Eames grabbed his jacket from the dining table and saw Arthur spot him; he knew he was in for some kind of interrogation.

"Where are you off to?"

"Out."

"With anyone I know?"

"No darling, our social circles outside of Cobb are nonexistent. And since when did you become my keeper anyway?"

"I was just wondering. Housemates are supposed take an interest in each others lives."

Eames stared at him with the slightest bit of malevolence; Arthur was grating on him already and he'd only said two sentences.

"A hot date, maybe?"

"Not since your sister. Don't wait up Arthur."

Eames escaped before Arthur had sounded a retort and found himself on the chilly streets of Paris. The wind was bitter and he was glad that he'd had a shot of Jack; it had been warming him. He arrived twenty minutes later at a bar named 'Le Lapin Blanc' and as soon as he was through the door he made a beeline for a stunning, but lonely brunette who was nursing a white wine spritzer at the bar.

"Bonjour." He greeted. Eames wasn't in the mood for his usual routine of ignoring the woman but catching her eye till she made the first move, he went straight in for the kill.

"Bonjour." She replied. Her accent was near enough flawless but she held a certain different European twang to it.

"Parlez-vous anglais?"

"Oui." She smiled at him and then laughed, "How did you know?"

He deduced that she was British, probably lived in France for a considerable amount of years hence the near flawless accent. She had olive skin; one of her parents was possibly Greek, maybe Turkish, he lent towards Greek. She was a left hander, he knew because she had an ink smudge on her left wrist. She was either a journalist or a writer.

"Let's just say it's a part of my line of work."

She blushed and looked to her spritzer, she liked him already, he could tell.

"Would you like me to astound you even more?" He asked after he'd received his vodka martini; shaken, not stirred.

"Go on then, surprise me."

"Well, judging by your accent you lived in bonnie old Blighty for most of your life but you moved here, three, maybe four years ago. Your complexion hints that you're possibly part Greek; maybe on your father's side…correct me if I'm wrong. I'm guessing you like to write but unlike most people you prefer a pen and paper in contrast to a computer screen, so all your drafts are by hand. Also you're a leftie and in my opinion the most gorgeous woman in this place."

She gasped and then giggled, blushing violently at the same time. He had got her right where he wanted her, not bad for fifteen minutes of work.

"How did you know all that?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets. Although I might make an exception if you tell me your name."

"It's Adriane, but please don't do a Rocky impression, I hate it."

"Duly noted and taken into consideration." He took a sip from his glass and started unveiling his secrets. "Ok, your accent and skin tone give the first point away, but you probably already knew that. There's an ink smudge on your wrist hinting that you're left handed, because they always smudge the ink when writing across the page, which leads me to think that your job involves writing. The rest was an educated guess, but I'm presuming that I was close to the mark."

"You were very close to the mark. I'm a junior freelancer for a fashion magazine; I've published a couple of articles but not a lot. It's true, I do write my drafts in good old pen before typing them up; it's always been my way. My dad is in fact Greek and my mother is English, although I've been told that I look very much like her. I did move here three years ago, it was to pursue the dream of becoming a fashion journalist in the capital of fashion."

"How's that working out?"

"As I said I've had a few articles published, nothing hardcore but I'll get there someday."

"Well, for now, do you fancy another drink?"

She was drunk after four more spritzers; Eames was inebriated by the eighth. They hailed a cab and went back to her place, shedding each others clothes the second they stepped over the threshold. They did the deed on her leather settee (Eames remembered the uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to his bum cheek), then again the floor (he received a few carpet burns to his back), before they did it once more in her bed (he vaguely remembers murmuring 'Ariadne' instead of 'Adriane' when he orgasmed, but he thinks he got away with it.). As Eames had lain there he had to admit, the woman was a handful, and she had been insatiable, his type of lover. But the longer he had thought about it, the more he'd realised that he hadn't enjoyed it for a second; she had ultimately been his pretend Ariadne for the night, it meant very little to him.

Eames waited till was he sure she was asleep and then left. It was five in the morning and luckily for him she lived ten minutes away from where he was staying with Arthur and Ariadne. As he got to the front door he dug deep in his pockets as he searched for his key. Eames hadn't wanted to ring the doorbell and wake them like he had so many times before, but his searching had become fruitless, the keys weren't in his pocket. He went to punch the hanging basket and spotted a sliver of silver that glinted in the morning sunlight, someone had left a spare in there. Quickly he unearthed it and stumbled through the door unable to believe his luck as he tiptoed into the lounge. Straight away he spotted her asleep on the sofa; it wasn't the first time he'd found her there either.

"Eames, is that you?" Ariadne asked groggily, as she pushed the hair away from her face.

"'S me." Eames was still a little bit drunk; he concluded that maybe he should've slept at Adriane's to take the edge off.

"Did you have a good evening?"

"'Rn't bad."

"Did you want some breakfast?" She had become up and alert as she'd made her way to the kitchen.

"Ari, please, jus' go back to bed. 'm home now."

"Do you want a bacon sandwich or egg?" She knew exactly what his hangover cure was.

"Can I jus' sleep this off first? I'm not in the mood to eat right now."

"Where have you been?" She had pried; Eames wondered if she was jealous?

"Woman's house, what does it matter?"

"That was stupid and you know it."

"Why?"

"Because she could've been some crazy…bunny boiler stalker who wanted to lock you up in her basement."

"But she wasn't, as you can see. I'm here safe and sound, no harm done."

"Ok, she wasn't, but it could've happened. Eames, I just want you to take care of yourself, some women can be just as slimy as men."

He walked over to where she was standing and patted her hand as she leant on the counter. Ariadne looked him straight in the eye and he swore she was holding back tears, but then again it could've been in his head, he was intoxicated after all, he could've been seeing what he wanted to see.

"Look darling, I'm a big boy, I can look after myself. I can handle myself against 'crazy bunny boiler stalker' women. Don't worry about me; it'll only turn you grey prematurely."

"I can't just not worry about you, Eames; you've become a really good friend to me, I don't know what I'd do without you. I'd probably still be afraid to even make a move on Arthur or I would've gone back to finish my studies alone. I need you in my life; you're the one that talks no bullshit sense to me when Arthur tries to sugar-coat it. And let's face it; if the roles were reversed you'd be the first one to give me a lecture about men and staying out late, don't deny it."

Eames let out a soft laugh as he watched her turn and fill a glass with water and grab some headache pills from the cupboard.

"Will you at least take these? You're a grouch when you're hungover."

"For you Ari, anything." He took them from her, kissed her hand then made his way to his room, passing the master bedroom on the way.

"Eames! Will you stop getting in so late! Ariadne's been on that sofa all night. Have you no consideration for her?"

"Green doesn't suit you Arthur; it's not my fault you're tied to one woman." Eames shouted back, he could feel the hallway spinning due to his alcohol consumption.

"Hey!" Ariadne shouted as she too made her way down the hallway. "Don't let my man know what he's missing out on, he might want to leave me." She joked.

"If he does that then I can have you all to myself." Eames grinned.

"Get some sleep, Arthur's planning to do the hovering outside your door at midday to get you back."

That was the last thing Ariadne said to him before she closed the master bedroom door. Eames had slowly made his way back to his room to finally get some sleep.

If only she'd known he'd been serious, maybe the next couple of months would've been different.

**Reviews = love**


	4. Missing Scene: The Wedding Reception

Missing Scene: The Wedding Reception

**A bit quicker with the upload this time. This is the final missing scene, hope you likie.**

**Just a disclaimer (forgot to put this last night) the song featured is 'I Still Care For You' by Ray Lemontagne, none of those lyrics belong to me, i'm not poetic enough. Also, as a side note, another song that can be used as a companion is 'Someone Like You' by Adele, completely different lyrics but the same kind of theme that runs throughout this scene, both songs are highly recommended. **

Eames watches over the dance floor as he sips his beer. He's at the bar and this has been his first drink in months; being preoccupied with trying not to be preoccupied with Ariadne had caused his loss of liquid appetite. He watches her attentively as she dances with her dad to some cheesy 80's pop song that no doubt takes her back to her youth, Eames cringes as her dad's dancing is the definition of bad but she must like it because she's laughing away without a care in the world. He spots Arthur dancing with her mum and notes that she is just as bad as her husband. No wonder Ariadne's moves are restricted to the foot shuffle, who knows what atrocious moves she's inherited. Eames smiles when she gets twirled so her dress imitates a cloud puff; he thinks to himself she looks beautiful, although she always has done.

Yusuf sidles up to him - drink in hand and watches too. His eyes carefully dart between the dancing Ariadne and Eames' expression; he knows his friend is in love with their Architect, he has done for a while. They've never spoken about it; Yusuf never found the right opportunity to ask him as Eames disappeared for a time. But now that they're here together, he's here for Eames if he needs him.

"She's lovely, isn't she? Arthur's a lucky man." Yusuf takes a gulp of his Coke and hopes that Eames can hear the intent of his words.

"Yes he is." Eames tears his eyes away from her and looks at Yusuf with a candid expression.

"Are you ok?"

Eames takes a large mouthful of beer and looks back at the dance floor where she's now dancing with Arthur to some mushy love song that probably means something to them both. He nods in reply to Yusuf's question and the Chemist takes that as a conversation closer, he says no more and heads to the buffet.

Once the song is finished, Ariadne catches Eames looking at her and she makes her way over to the bar where he's standing. As she hitches up her billowing white skirt and petticoats to walk towards him he spies a pair of white high top converses, he chuckles to himself. Only she would put comfort over style.

"Dance with me?" she asks with an outstretched hand and a beaming smile. Eames can't refuse her with that smile, he almost wishes he could dance all night with her, but that would mean he was the groom instead of Arthur. He takes her petite hand in his own and they make their way over to the mahogany flooring. He twirls her for good measure, just to watch the cloud puff again and she giggles before they resume a proper dancing position.

A slow evocative intro saunters from the speakers into the atmosphere and Eames knows what song it is instantly. It's almost as if someone knows this is his song for her.

_Hear me out  
Day follows day  
Light turns to clay in my hands_

There hasn't been a day that's gone by where he hasn't thought of her and the intimate time they shared together. Every time he's wondered; maybe he should've told her that he is in love with her; maybe she wouldn't have married Arthur if he had. But he knows two maybes is two too many for his no bullshit attitude with life. They're fine as they are, even if she has seen through him and knows the truth. It seems everyone but Arthur does, and for that he is grateful. Although he may look skinny, Arthur is well built under his lithe exterior. He could possibly pummel Eames in a fight which is the last thing he wants; he'd rather suffer in silence forever than take a onetime beating.

Ariadne rests her head on his chest as they sway on the spot; she almost looks like she's dreaming with her eyes closed.

Eames takes a quiet gulp. How can he stop loving her?

_How to explain,  
So pristine the pain  
It was kindness made the cut so clean_

"You scrub up well, what designer is it?"

"Gucci." He chuckles; she knows he has a weakness for labels. It doesn't make him gay; it just makes him feel classier than everyone else, not that he isn't already. "Let me guess, you're in a designer dress?"

She smiles shrewdly in return as she looks into his eyes. She still has butterflies, just like the last time she was this close to him over two months ago. His lips are just as plump and kissable as they were then; maybe a little more weathered as he's been travelling so much, but sexy all the same. His face is now smooth instead of stubbly; she remembers the soft scratch of his whiskers against her skin as they kissed that one night. But his eyes – they're exactly the same; they still haunt her dreams and probably will in years to come.

"It's a Caroline Castigliano, on Arthur's insistence. I was happy with something cheap and simple but he wanted me in something amazingly gorgeous and expensive, so this is what we agreed on. Apart from the skirt I can't walk in to hide my horrible legs I don't think it could be any more perfect. Arthur didn't get a say on the shoes though."

"I noticed. I don't think I've ever seen a bride in trainers; this may well be a first. Either way, you don't look so bad yourself."

"Thanks."

They sway a little bit more and he twirls her again like a professional. As she returns to his body Ariadne bites her lip, she looks up at him guiltily and hesitates before deciding on her next thread of conversation.

"It's in the past Ari, let it stay there too." Eames says without her breathing a word. He always seemed to know what she was thinking, sometimes even before she thought it. They had been so close; it hurt that they hadn't been in the last two months.

"I'm sorry about what happened. I never meant to hurt you, Eames. You're my best friend and I love you, I do, but I love Arthur more. That night, it wasn't a mistake, I promise, but it made me realise what I wanted out of my life. I want marriage and kids, and a stupid three bedroom house; like the one that we used to laugh at and despise because it meant living in a conformed society. I want to settle down and be a grown up, Arthur will give me all that stability. I know none of it is for you."

Eames takes a deep breath and replies "So long as it wasn't a mistake I'm happy. He'll make you happier than I ever could, I'm certain."

_I still care for you_

_Hear me out  
You wanted to me to be  
Less your love than a mirror_

She knows it takes him a lot to say so Ariadne decides to change the subject.

"I've missed you, a lot. When I'm back from my honeymoon we should go out for dinner, or maybe a movie or something, it'll be my treat. It's been so long since I've seen you"

"Ariadne, I'd love that but I can't promise anything at the moment. Work has really picked up lately; I haven't had any time for myself in an age, I had to turn down work just to come today. If I can find time once you're back we will definitely do something, but for now, can we just put it as tentative?"

It hurts him so much to lie to her but he has to. Now she's married he can't be a part of her life like he used to be, not when he still loves her as much as he does, he'd only be hurting himself in the process if he sticks around.

_Can't you see  
What you mean to me?  
(even promises may bleed)_

_I still care for you_

Ariadne isn't naive; she can read between the lines. She knows how he still feels without having to verbalise them. It's too hard for him right now and she hates it because it's different for her, she's in love with Arthur and he loves her back. She can't imagine the strength it takes Eames to pretend everything is ok without telling any one how he really feels.

Underneath all his pain and anguish they both know he will appear again, their relationship is too strong to just cut and run from. She wants, needs him, in her life to keep it in balance. She knows it's incredibly selfish of her, but Eames is selfish enough to still want to be near her when really he should stay well away.

Eames drops a kiss lightly to her crown and takes a deep breath to memorize everything about this moment before he leaves again. She is perfect and will remain perfect; he's a lot more fractured than he ever was before.

_The hours grow  
Heavy,  
And hollow,  
And cruel as a grave_

_Open_  
_Me_  
_You'll find_  
_Only bones burned to glass._

The song is coming to an end and Eames feels her tiny grip tighten around his hand and waist. It's as if she knows he's planning on disappearing as soon as this is over. He can't take any more of this emotional agony and as much as he wants Ariadne to come with him, he has to leave her here, where she belongs.

Her wedding band feels like it's burning his skin through his suit, and as much as he wants leave, he deals with the pain in his heart; it's all in his head, he knows. Each foot shuffle begins to feel heavier and his throat feels like its constricting, like it's choking him from the prospect of departing. Eames feels fragile, that his heart is cracked; one move away from her will shatter it, but now its time to go.

He steps away, but keeps her hand in his to place a delicate kiss on her soft skin; he grows a little bolder and places one more lingering brush on her warm cheek. This is as close as he can get to her lips, as much as he wants them that'd be overstepping the mark. This is the only way he can convey his bittersweet goodbye. He walks away from her without looking back; the only way for him now is forward.

Ariadne watches him retreat into the shadows and a tiny piece of her heart breaks. That would be the only time she'd ever admit out loud that she loved him.

Arthur has their next dance; she buries her head into his chest, to stop herself from looking for Eames in the crowd. Ariadne instantly feels a difference to the body she had buried her head in before. Arthur places a kiss to her crown, (coincidentally in the same place Eames had), before whispering in her ear that he loves her. She almost wishes it was a different voice.

She almost wishes she could've heard Eames say it instead.

_I still care for you_

Eames escapes from the reception without anyone coming after him and hails a taxi; he asks the driver to go straight to the airport. He'd had his passport and airline ticket in his pocket the whole evening, his suitcase had already been sent to the airport by the hotel. Eames had arranged a week ago to go home to England for a while. It'd be the last place anyone from the team would look for him.

As they pull away in the car the song is still swimming around his thoughts; it will haunt him till the day he dies. The whole memory will. Because he still cares for her.

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